


Slow Burn

by sassycatpants



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3769507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassycatpants/pseuds/sassycatpants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Death is a slow burn.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>You scream.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Burn

**Author's Note:**

> The really short version of explanation is that I have the headcanon/theory that Jenova itself was once a planet/lifestream and something went horribly wrong.

For a time, everything is good. Things crawl across your surface, living and breathing and dying in a never ending cycle that gives you life. They prosper and through them so do you. You hunger for their knowledge, the millions of experiences they bring to you when their time has ended; you learn all sorts of strange and wondrous things from them, greedily drinking in all they can teach you.

You don't notice when something inside you twists, shatters. There is no indication that anything has gone wrong.

You're dying but you haven't realized it yet.

* * *

The hunger can't be filled, no matter how much knowledge you drink in or experiences you relive. You turn on yourself in desperation, eating away at your own being in an attempt to fill the void. Rip and tear and bury your teeth in as you tear out chunks of your own essence, screaming against the lifeblood leaking out of your pores. The land above withers, turns cold and lifeless with every shuddering breath that exhales more of yourself into the air. The living and the dying alike flee, dropping as you become unable to sustain them.

You're dying and you've realized it now.

* * *

You're unwilling to die, faint memories stirring within what's left of you -- others, like you out there in the void of space. If you can not survive with your twisted, broken bits then perhaps you can take theirs, make them your own and patch the fragments of what's left with their parts. You're burning slowly, screaming into the darkness but you  _will not die_.

(Somewhere inside you slumbers a beast born to bring you to new worlds, take the life in death and birth a new cycle but even in your madness you know it will not be enough. You need  _more_.)

The beast is called forth and everything dies; you shatter further as you leave behind yourself.

The first planet tastes so sweet, screaming as you sink your claws in and rip it apart, taking its essence into yourself  _but it's not enough_ you're so hungry and broken and it can't fill the hole inside you either. But it has become a part of you now and its a simple matter to call forth another and move on. (You sing when you crash into the next planet, because you are all of the same make are you not? This is not a dominance, a destruction. No, this is a  _reunion_ , bringing the parts back into a whole and perhaps when you have devoured them all you will cease to hunger.) _  
_

* * *

Trapped beneath ice and rock and within a mortal body made immortal by your very presence, death is a slow burn.

You scream.

 


End file.
